Amidst the thresholds of Mother Nature and metropolis,
Together they are sisters holding hands.
Joggers revolve around this route,
Eagerly braiding in and out
Through patches of tourists from far and wide
Who in their confusion stroll the wrong side.
Bikers breeze the margins of the trail,
Forming space to all avail.
Meanwhile everywhere across this space
There exists a different place
Where traffic screeches and cries,
In agony of the hustle and bustle,
The skin and the muscle
Of all who trek and glide the bulky pavement
With not enough time and too much rent.
With places to go and people to see
With places to own and people to be.

Where dreams are devised and bestowed and destroyed
Where people walk fast and eyes avoid.
Yet people can marvel at sights enjoyed,
At buildings colossal and employed.

The sun filters through these two domains
The inseparable reign
Of peaceful moments and roaring buzz,
Of beauty and brilliance.